


Where the dreams come true

by Cirilla9



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Conversations, Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 08:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14468718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: James and Thomas in Savannah. Would be perfectly happy reunion if not for Flint's evil deeds.





	Where the dreams come true

The lack of constant sound of waves in the background created a deafening silence, which the distant chatter of voices and picks hammering on the field, with accompaniment of the birds singing were not enough to fill.

The porcelain cup in his hand, along with an elegant teapot at the table in front of him felt terribly English.

Nobody shouted commands, nobody picked up brawls, nobody sang drunkenly.

“You were here all this time?” he asked from a lack of something to say.

“Could hardly move out, could I?”

The uncomfortable silence fell once more. This time Thomas broke it.

“Better tell me something about yourself. Became a pirate? If I’m to judge by your choice of clothes,” Thomas eyes rove over James’ sailor shirt, high boots, the wide belt that still held the empty pistol holster. Any piece of royal navy robes was gone, an earring adorned one ear shelf. “Met someone significant? Jack Rackham? Vane? Teach?”

James eyes were trained rather on a horizon line than the other’s man blue ones.

“How do you know all these names?” he asked carefully. “Teach has been a pirate long enough but Vane, Jack?”

“We are hidden from civilization here, not the other way around. News reach us. Fantastic stories, full of unbelievable adventures, mostly pile of rubbish really, but what else is here to do? I’ve read every book from the library at least twice, rarely something new arrives from overseas, so pirate stories from newspapers are the most thrilling lecture available.”

“I knew them,” said former pirate captain. “Vane was… well, crazy, yes, but not as much as they paint him in the tales. He was a good man. Jack, heh, an adventurer. Likes fancy clothes no less than any lady in London.”

“As clever as they say?”

“Perhaps more. One shouldn’t underestimate him for sure.”

“Interesting life you’ve led,” stated Thomas. “While I was locked in here, doing nothing.” He said it in a contemplative manner, no accusation could be heard in his voice, that same honest smile that James grew to love so much adorned his open face.

Something tugged at James’ heart when he looked at his dearest friend.

“If I knew you were here, I’ll-”

“You couldn’t know,” Thomas cut him off with an air of finality.

 

~~~

 

„You never talk about her,” said Thomas over the cup of tea one day, eyes trained on the steaming liquid. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

He didn’t have to clarify whom he meant. One look at James grievous face was enough for an answer.

“How? No, wait, I don’t want to know. Just tell me if she suffered?”

“No. It was… quick and much of a surprise for me, for both of us I imagine. I don’t suppose she even had a time to think of it before it was over.”

“So you were with her till the end? Paid her last respects?”

James remembered Miranda’s empty eyes and a pool of blood on the Peter’s floor, her sallow skin in the open coffin on the square amongst the jeers of the crowd. He remembered his blind rage and the order to fire from the warship’s cannons at Charleston and the chaos and destruction that followed. They paid for her death in their own blood.

“You could say so,” he answered finally. Then, after a calming sip of tea, he added: “how come you’ve heard of Vane being hanged and not about her death?”

“The news reach us but they are filtered. I was not to know anything about the two of you especially. I’ve heard about my father’s departure of course but my wife and you were the complete taboo. There were moments I despaired you were both gone, the other times I pictured the two of you leading a quiet, peaceful life somewhere in hiding. Out of curiosity, whatever they told you about me?”

“That you’re dead.”

“So I thought. I cannot imagine anything less would deter you or her from looking for me.” As he talked about Miranda there was a nostalgic admiration in Thomas’ voice, soaked in the thick layer of sadness.

James wordlessly reached for his hand. They sat quietly when the tea cooled forgotten at the table.

“Do you want me to go?” asked James after a long while when Thomas just sat still, looking at the far horizon. His words seemed to jolt Thomas out of his thoughts, the hand upon his own answered the grip, squeezing his fingers.

“No, stay with me. At least one of you is alive and here, with me. That’s more than I could ever hope for. Let’s not waste  any more of the time given to us. We are here, we are together, she would want us to be happy.”

“Aye, she would,” agreed James, thinking of all her encouraging words and tender smiles whenever his and Thomas’ affair was mentioned.

 

~~~

“Have you ever thought of escaping?” James lowered his voice so no incidental passerby would hear.

Thomas seemed to not have such restraints, speaking normally .

“I did, many times. I even came up with a few ideas that might be successful. Never try them though.”

James looked questioningly at him.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Savannah isn’t a bad place to live in and there was nothing in the outside world awaiting me. I had no idea of yours and Miranda’s fate and I could hardly carry out a research without any money. I also strongly doubt any of my former acquaintances would want anything to do with me now.”

 

~~~

 

When Thomas leaned in to kiss him, his hands ghosting over the hem of the white shirt, James was tempted to give in to the lure. All that longing, all forbidden desires that he fought to keep under control for such a long time, now awoke to life under Thomas’ familiar touch. It would be so easy. But it won’t be right.

“Wait,” he rasped and it hurt like a gulp of sea water inhaled instead of air by a drowning man. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why?” Thomas sounded mildly amused. “We’re in prison already, what else can they do to us?”

“It’s not that. I… When you were gone, when I thought you were gone, I wanted only revenge. I was furious at the whole world for taking you from me and I wanted to make it pay for your death. I did unspeakable things. There is so much blood on my hands…”

“It doesn’t matter what you did,” said Thomas and James breath caught as the blonde kissed his palms. “I don’t want to hear about it. I only want you.”

James fought perhaps the hardest battle in his life as he wondered whether or not to tell Thomas who exactly did he kill, what exactly was his alias.

Afflicted by the unresponsiveness of his partner, Thomas sighed.

“Fine,” the hands fell down from James’ ruffled clothes reluctantly. “We won’t do it until you want it. Just don’t keep me waiting too long. I’m tired of waiting.”

 

~~~

 

Work in the field wasn’t intellectually engaging. That day James could see in the lines of Thomas body, in the thoughtful expression, the slightly furrowed brows, that something was on his mind, something other than sowing cane.

And he wasn’t mistaken. At five o’clock, when they took their usual places at the porch, Thomas was the picture of his old self from London halls, only the wig was lacking.

“Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's.” He started. James waited, fighting back a smile. “The most popular line about taxes in Bible, a solid base for the laws when their origins reach the Holy Book. God himself told you to pay taxes. But what if the expenses aren’t split evenly, what if they aren’t divided fairly? What if, instead of splitting it half to half, only one side is demanded to pay, while the other was freed from the obligation?”

“Undoubtly the tax free party is benefiting from that situation.”

“Exactly! And such uneven treatment can lead to-” Thomas frowned at James’ expression. “What?”

“They called her a witch, you know? Miranda. They said she controls me thanks to her magic. But it is you who can cast a spell. With words alone you charm people to do things far greater than other could force them to with guns and violence.”

“I hardly even started. You didn’t hear what the whole thing is about yet.”

“No. But I have a feeling I know where this is heading to. We’ve been there before. So what is it this time if not piracy?”

“It is one of the cause that may provoke piracy, in fact. In the today’s release of the New-England Courant I’ve read that East India Company has been exempted from custom charges. That will enable them to lower the praises of their products, which, in turn, will significantly perturb competition. Company’s cheaper products may even expel the native ones from the market...”

James listened to him with affection, allowing himself to be seduced by his pure visions once more and when Thomas’ words flew over him, painting impossible plans as if they were the easiest life paths, it was like being moved to the past, to the days when they all three were happy together, loving each other and working at one grandeur idea. If he listened hard enough, he could almost made up Miranda’s good-natured laugh in the background.

 

~~~

 

“Why didn’t you ask about Flint?” James finally worded the question that was ever present in his mind since their first conversation here in Savannah, warring between wanted to be asked and fearing what may it bring in the answer. “That time when we discussed well-known pirates.”

“They told me he killed my father. You, of all men, know how our family relations were far from perfect but still… I cannot honestly say that I mourned him but the news of his death certainly saddened me. I was even surprised at how much. I guess the attachment to one’s parent cannot be that easily cut off as we would sometimes wish it could. Perhaps that makes me weak but I like to think he still loved me, in his own way.”

“Loved you?” spat James. “He locked you in a madhouse!”

“He was also the one that took me from there,” countered Thomas. “I’d much prefer him staying completely out of certain areas of my life in the first place of course, but at that time, right after the mental hospital, this place felt like heaven in comparison. I don’t know how much longer I’d last in the asylum. Perhaps a few months more and the information about my suicide wouldn’t be a fake one.”

“And he’s responsible for placing you there! How can you feel anything else but hate toward him?”

“De mortuis aut bene aut nihil as they say. I was a big disappointment to him on many fields but despite the fact that he abhorred some things I did, that he was angry at how I tarnish the reputation of our name – despite all this I like to think his actions were dictated by some kinder feelings toward me as well. Perhaps he wanted to shield me from the scandal, perhaps he hoped they would heal me there,” for the first time in his life James saw Thomas’ smile have a tinge of bitterness. “And when he saw it isn’t working, he arranged my stay in here.”

James fought to keep a straight face when Thomas’ next words felt like a dagger to the heart.

“What I’m saying is that I’m trying to remember all the nice moments with my father, not thinking about the darker ones. And that is why I did not ask you about Flint, my friend. Because for me in order to keep the most possibly kind memory of my father intact, Flint must be the villain of this story. Because only a villain would kill a man that did not deserve his death.”

 

~~~

 

James only half-listened when Thomas was describing the economic situation he deduced from newspapers and gossip and wondered aloud what approach could be taken against the imperial trade politics.

“… if they boycott the external products. But it is hard, near impossible, to convince the whole city to that plan. There always will be someone who prefers, or sometimes even must, buy the imported goods cheaper. However, if we concentrated on the cargo ships… I’m not saying to sink them but forbid from entering the port for example…”

James, distracted, watched how Thomas perfectly curved lips move as he spoke, tongue moisturizing them occasionally, all that in the frame of an angelic face, with blue innocent eyes and soft blond hair. The stubble made him look his age but did not manage to take away his gentleness. James contemplated how it was possible that such a perfect human being, a truly great man, as Miranda put it, was sacrificing his time and energy for an outlawed pirate. It was hardly imaginable back then in London, considering their social status differences and yet Thomas did not care for decorum at all, making the people around him believe world can be as beautiful as he saw it, that all the problems could dissolve just as easily as he ignored formalities.

James could hardly believe he had him again, that they both lived, were safe, were together. They could almost pretend living a domestic life if only squint and ignore the armored watchmen, the high solid wall, the firmly locked gates to the plantation. He could almost have his dream again, it was just waiting to be built anew, at hand’s reach, literally, where Thomas sat across the small table. But what true thing could be built on a lie?

“Are you even listening to me?” asked Thomas with that cute little smile playing around the corner of his lips. “Because if I’m that boring, then perhaps I shall revise some of these ideas.”

“I’m Flint.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m Flint,” James repeated, louder and clearer.

He waited in tension, observing Thomas’ face, seeing how it changed from amiable to something darker and more distant.

James wanted to tell Thomas all about it, how he murdered his father, how sorry he was for Thomas but not for Alfred; wanted to tell him which crimes were his own and which were only legends; wanted to beg for understanding but never forgiveness.

He kept silent, however, and waited for how Thomas would react.

“You killed my father,” his lover said slowly.

“Yes.”

“And attacked Charleston, where Peter died.”

“Yes.”

“And agitated people from Nassau until pirates almost declared war against the whole British Empire.”

“Y-”

Thomas raised a hand.

“I want you to leave me.”

“Thomas-”

“Please.”

James stood up stiffly and walked away.

 

~~~

 

Sugar cane plantation, however spacious, wasn’t big enough to successfully ignore each other. James took Thomas’ wish to the heart, however, taking care to be placed at a different part of the field than where Thomas worked.

It was Thomas who approached him first.

A shovel was decidedly thrust into the ditch before him, right where he was about to work with his own tool. He straightened to the sight of Thomas before him, on the same field they saw each other first after James’ arrival to Savannah.

This time James’ clothes were more farmer-like and Thomas’ expression rather annoyed than delighted.

“So now you are going to avoid me,” accused Thomas and really, in James’ opinion that wasn’t fair.

“You were the one that told me to leave you.”

“Well, yes, after the revelation you shared with me in the middle of another conversation. I needed some time to think it through. I didn’t want to tell you something I will regret later.”

James leaned onto his own shovel. People around them cast a few interested glances their way but nobody was interrupting them.

“Did you figure it out?”

“What?”

“The words that you want to tell me.”

“At first I was angry, didn’t know if more about the murder itself or for how long you kept that from me. You could introduce your pirate name at the very beginning, that would spare a great deal of nerves to either of us.”

“I… was afraid of how you’d react. I couldn’t lose you again.”

“And hiding the truth felt like the proper way to achieve that?”

The question was too rhetorical for James to dignify it with an answer.

“What will happen now?” he asked instead. “To us?”

“How unlucky that this should happen to me.” James’ heart ached for a split second before he recognized Thomas’ words for the quote they were. “But perhaps I shall say how lucky I am that I am not broken by what has happened and I'm not afraid of what is about to happen. For the same blow might have struck anyone, but not many who would have absorbed it without capitulation or complaint.”

Now his chest tightened for entirely different reasons as he remembered their book, the dedication, all the warm memories Mark Aurelius’ ‘Meditations’ invoked. He looked at Thomas and couldn’t help the tentative smile that begun somewhere deep inside him before raising the corners of his lips up.

“For now I invite you to drink with me our customary tea in our customary place. And then,” James stared at him with wild hope in his eyes, “perhaps you’d join me in my room, if you want to?”

“I’d love to.”

“Good. Because I’ve reached the conclusion that whatever good or bad things might be said about my father, he hindered in our case too much. He was enough of an impediment in our affair when he lived, let him not come between us when he died.”

James silenced rest of the words with a kiss, too contented to express it properly with words alone himself.

There were people still around them but he didn’t care when Thomas returned the kiss. Nobody called them on that. Perhaps Savannah really wasn’t that bad place to live in.

 


End file.
